The Accidentals Series 01: Religious Ecstasy
by speshulduck
Summary: [au] benson and stabler investigate a series of "sexually motivated" murders. complete. sequels on the way.
1. chapter one

title: religious ecstasy  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: tv-14 ;) pg-13 really  
  
keywords: mild oe  
  
summary: benson and stabler investigate a string of "sexually motivated" murders.  
  
author notes: who knows where this one's going? i'm still getting used to this fandom, so give me time. i've also decided i'm a feedback whore. meh, so it goes. each time i get another review i giggle furiously and do my best sally field impression. sad i know. flame me, love me, constructive criticism me...i take it all.  
  
disclaimer: not mine, all hail dick wolf and his chung-chung. i do like to let them out of the box every now and then.  
  
[chung-chung ;)]  
  
- Battery Park -  
  
- Saturday April 24th 7:18am -  
  
The scene was becoming a little repetitive. Detective Elliot Stabler glanced at his partner over the roof of the car and she met his gaze for a moment. They both rolled their eyes as they stooped down to look inside. Fourth double homicide in a week, a prostitute and her customer both stabbed viciously in the middle of their activities, their blood all but coating the inside of the car.  
  
"What you thinking?" Elliot called across to where Olivia stood at the driver's door.  
  
"That I'm getting tired of seeing the same thing over and over," she said, straightening. "I don't suppose Homicide would like to take over?"  
  
"Nah, now that it's going to be all over the papers and we have zero leads they'd like the leave the failure exclusively in our hands." Elliot groaned as he stood up. They'd had no time to sleep lately and he could feel the exhaustion gripping his legs and back. "I'm getting too old for this, Liv." He looked up at her but she was staring intently down into the car.  
  
"Tell me something, Elliot," she said bending back over and reaching into the car. He sighed as he leaned down to look. "How many prostitutes wear diamond-studded watches?"  
  
Elliot followed her pointed finger with his eyes and saw a watch on the woman's left wrist that glistened with blood. Even in the early morning light he could see that the diamonds the first cops on the scene had dismissed as fake were indeed real.  
  
"None that I remember, stolen maybe?"  
  
"She would sell it, not wear it," Olivia countered. Elliot nodded in agreement. "Mistaken identity maybe? She's too covered in blood to be sure she's prostitute."  
  
He scrutinized the woman's appearance. She was crouched on the man's lap, obviously killed in the process of having sex with the middle-aged man even though her skirt effectively covered them both. Her bra was probably black but there was so much blood he couldn't be sure. She rested on her back against the steering wheel and her arms were thrust out to the sides. The watch was something Elliot should have caught; he wasn't sure how Olivia had managed to see it from her side of the car.  
  
He heard the snap of latex gloves and Olivia's covered hand intruded on his vision. She lifted back the vic's blond hair to examine the side of her neck. "Looks like there's a stab wound here. Judging by the amount of blood that came out of it I'd say this was probably the first one."  
  
"And the rest are the perp acting out his anger," Elliot said quietly. It matched the other murders, although the second had been in a back alley rather than a car. "If this isn't a pro it could be a copycat. Maybe he wanted to kill someone and make us think this one's just part of the other string of crimes."  
  
"Could be, but such violence," Olivia mused, half to herself. "I don't think it's a copycat."  
  
"Detectives, over here." They both turned to face the medical examiner. She lifted up a pair of boxer shorts from weeds near the car. "Looks like someone tried to burn them."  
  
"So?" Elliot asked. "Doesn't mean anything."  
  
"It does when someone left their DNA on it," the ME replied, cocking her head slightly and pointing at the stain.  
  
"Still doesn't mean anything," Elliot said sighing.  
  
"Unless the perp got off on murdering people and felt guilty about it," Olivia offered.  
  
"Let's leave the psychoanalysis to Huang, shall we?" Elliot fired back.  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squadroom -   
  
- Saturday April 24th 9:30am -  
  
"Word's come back on the identity of our latest victim," Cragen announced as he exited his office gripping the file folders in his hands for dear life. "Congressman and his wife. Apparently they wanted to add a little spice to their sex life and get it on in their car. People, I don't need to tell you how much priority this case gets. Mayor wants it solved yesterday."  
  
Munch snorted from his desk. "The mayor always wants things solved yesterday. Maybe if he came down here for once instead of demanding from on high he'd see that--"  
  
"Save it John," Cragen cut him off. "This case gets the entire department's attention for now. What's the word on the underwear the ME found?"  
  
"Guy did indeed leave his identifying mark on it and it doesn't match anyone in the database, but there's no way to tell if it's the perp," Elliot said, handing the report to Cragen. "He's never left semen before so we don't know if it's his. If we could get Huang in here for a profile of the guy that'd be swell."  
  
"'Swell,' Elliot?" Olivia asked innocently from across their joined desks.  
  
"Oh shut up," he said crossly. He gave his computer screen his best broody glare and stabbed at the keyboard.  
  
"Suggestions?" Cragen asked ignoring them.  
  
Fin tapped his pen thoughtfully on his desk. "We could stake out all the known prostitute hangouts in the area," he suggested. He aimed his pen at the map on the board. "This latest case only expands the area by a half a mile. The perp's acting very locally for right now. Maybe we can still use that to our advantage. If that don't work we can try a plant."  
  
"You and Munch get on that. Coordinate the stakeouts with vice if you have to." Cragen glanced down at the files in his hand. "I don't want to risk anyone in a plant until absolutely necessary. Benson, Stabler. Go out, talk to the pros in the area."  
  
"We've already done that, Captain," Olivia said, her face betraying her confusion. "They don't know anything."  
  
"No questions this time; warn them. Tell them we'll be staking out, trying to protect them. We're not going to interfere with business, but make them aware of the need to be careful." Cragen sighed. "I've heard too much of this 'no humans involved' bullshit to keep them in the dark anymore. They've got to know how in danger they are."  
  
Olivia and Elliot both nodded as they glanced at each other and stood, all sign of teasing gone. "We'll keep the DNA on the back burner, but it's not evidence until we have a potential perp to link it to." Cragen looked around at his four top detectives all standing behind their desks. "Well, what are you waiting for people? Solved yesterday, remember?"  
  
[tbc] 


	2. chapter two

title: religious ecstasy - chapter two  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author's notes: my mind is full of silvery stars - wilco  
  
disclaimer: see chapter one. to recap: not mine.  
  
- Corner of Bridge Street and Whitehall Street -  
  
- Saturday April 24th 3:30pm -  
  
Elliot scanned the street as he shifted the police sedan into park and yanked the parking break into place. "We in the right neighborhood?" he asked Olivia who sat in the passenger seat next to him. She checked over the list in her notebook.  
  
"Doesn't seem to be the right place for a hooker hangout, but yeah," she agreed. She nodded in the direction of the church across the street. "Maybe we have another religious nut on our hands."  
  
"Oh God I hope not," Elliot groaned. He opened the door and stepped out. "This is where the first victims were found, right?" He looked across the car to Olivia and they both turned to look at the alley behind the church. It was still cordoned off with the bright yellow crime scene tape.  
  
"It would fit with the M.O.," Olivia commented. Elliot slammed the door to the car and headed for the alley.  
  
"Maybe he comes out of the church and sees the pro and the john, gets upset that such a sin is occurring so near to a house of God, goes crazy," he theorized as he walked, Olivia falling into step next to him. "So where are the hookers now?"  
  
The surrounding row houses, while not the top of the line, were well maintained and neat, no prostitutes in sight. "If one of my friends were murdered in cold blood in my area I wouldn't work the same beat either," Olivia said. "I guess that means no one to warn around here." They'd already spent nearly six hours visiting various disreputable street corners in the area.  
  
"In the mood for confession?" Elliot asked blithely.  
  
"Why, you got any sins you need to confess?" Elliot could tell she understood what he meant and they headed for the church in step.  
  
-----  
  
"Welcome to the sanctuary of the Opus Dei. I am Brother Alphonso. Are you brethren seeking shelter or worshippers seeking their weekly circle?" The open and fresh-faced young man that greeted them was dressed in simple clothes and his curiosity was obvious.  
  
"Neither," Elliot said, withdrawing his badge from his pocket. "I'm Detective Stabler, this is my partner Detective Benson. We're investigating the murders that took place outside your..." he paused. "Sanctuary? I thought this was a church."  
  
"It is. The Opus Dei is a worldwide prelature of the Catholic church," Brother Alphonso explained. "We bring the teachings of St. Josemaria Escriva to the world. He taught that that the Lord asks all of us to become saints in our own right; to act in our everyday lives for Christ."  
  
Olivia made a noise of sudden understanding and looked around warily. The man caught her gaze. "I can see you have heard our reputation," he said with a half smile. "Certain works of fiction have been most unkind. I assure you, the vast majority of Opus Dei members do not practice such an extreme form of St. Josemaria's teachings. We are humble people; you may even work with several and not realize it."  
  
Olivia nodded, but Elliot could see the tension of caution still tugging around her eyes, but knew better than to ask about it until they were alone. "Do you live here?" he asked the younger man.  
  
"Yes, as do many other numeraries." The man glanced around. "I already spoke with the other officers."  
  
"We're just going back over everything, trying to get a feel for the crime," Olivia explained. "What are numeraries exactly?" Elliot pulled his notepad out of his pocket quickly.  
  
"Numeraries are men and women who have devoted themselves to the faith," he explained. "We are celibate in addition to giving up many other worldly things. We devote our time and entire salaries to the prelate and go wherever they direct."  
  
"Would it be possible to obtain a list of the numeraries who live in this sanctuary, Brother Alphonso?" Elliot asked, pausing in his note-taking.  
  
The man shook his head. "Not without a warrant I'm afraid. We value our privacy here. As the name indicates, it is a sanctuary."  
  
- Special Victims Squadroom -  
  
- Saturday April 24th 6:12pm -  
  
"Great, and make sure it's just a general list of members, not specific on the people living there."  
  
Elliot hung up the phone and grinned. "That was Alex. She thinks she'll be able to get us a warrant for the list. She makes no guarantees, but was optimistic." He watched his silent partner with no small measure of concern. "You okay? You seemed pretty shaken up at the church. Ready to tell me why yet?"  
  
"Have you ever read 'The DaVinci Code,' Elliot?" she asked. He chuckled.  
  
"The most advanced reading I've gotten to lately is 'Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,'" he answered with a grin. One eyebrow went up. "The twins got it for their birthday. I've been reading it aloud to them."  
  
"It was the runaway bestseller last summer," she explained. "I picked it up when it came out in paperback, figured I'd try to get away from sexually-based crimes for a while. It has some scary stuff in it."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like that Opus Dei numeraries engage in a practice known as 'corporal mortification.' They inflict pain on themselves in order to better understand the suffering of Christ. They're practically a cult."  
  
"Oh please, Liv," he scoffed. "The Catholic Church would never sanction a prelature that actually does that. It's just exaggerated for story-telling purposes."  
  
"There's a ton of testimonies from former members talking about how Opus Dei controlled and ruined their lives! They whip themselves, wear this spiked belt around their thigh." She bent down over her desk. "My gut's telling me our perp is here."  
  
"So's mine, but not for those reasons," Elliot agreed. "I'll go along with religious fervor, but not to the degree that you're suggesting." His tone had a note of finality in it.  
  
- Sanctuary of the Opus Dei -  
  
- 483 Whitehall Street -  
  
- Sunday April 25th 12:31pm -  
  
"Detectives Stabler and Benson," Brother Alphonso greeted. "You have more questions?"  
  
"Nope," Elliot replied, a smile firmly in place. "Just a warrant for the list of members of the church." Alphonso's face fell as Elliot extended the blue wrapped warrant.  
  
"I had hoped it would not come to this," he said, sadness in his voice. "We are deeply religious people. We would not harm anyone. I don't suppose this could wait until tomorrow? It is the day of worship after all."  
  
"Sorry, but no," Olivia interjected. A sandy-haired youth pushed open the door behind Alphonso as she spoke.  
  
"Brother Andrew, you should be in mid-day mass," Alphonso scolded.  
  
"I apologize, Brother Alphonso," the boy replied, his head bowed. "But I heard voices and I felt the need to investigate."  
  
"Such curiousness," Alphonso clucked in a manner reminiscent of a mother hen. "Since you are here, please fetch the list of our current members. It is in the top right drawer of my desk."  
  
"To live is to serve," the boy replied, bowing and backing through the door.  
  
"He seems awfully young to be living here, Brother Alphonso," Olivia commented. Alphonso drew in a deep breath.  
  
"He is eighteen and just joined. His parents were not members themselves, but are recently deceased. They lived in the area, but when they died he had no family to turn to. We accepted him here." Alphonso placed a hand over his heart. "He is perhaps too eager to serve, but he takes the teachings to heart."  
  
"Since we're here..." Elliot trailed off and Alphonso gave him a pained look.  
  
"More questions? Or perhaps a tour?" His tone was slightly sour, but Elliot glossed over it.  
  
"A tour would be fabulous."  
  
-----  
  
"As you can see, we live simply." Alphonso gestured around the small room. A mat lay on the floor and a sink was tucked into the corner. The only decoration was a crucifix on the wall and the only light came from a small window. A single partially spent candle sat on the floor next to the mat.  
  
"And whose room is this?" Elliot asked.  
  
"This is my room," Alphonso responded easily, stepping inside. "We are all equals and you will find that every room occupied by a numerary is identical to this one."  
  
"Brother Alphonso do you wear a cilice?" Elliot glanced at Olivia sharply at her question. The man shrugged the condemnation in her tone off easily.  
  
"As it is required. It gives me peace to know I can feel even a slight bit of Christ's suffering," he answered delicately. He smiled at her unasked question. "The same for the discipline."  
  
------  
  
"'The discipline'?" Elliot looked at his partner sitting next to him in their sedan.  
  
"The whips, Elliot," she said glaring at him. "It's a whole new level of bondage."  
  
"Masochism you mean," he said. "They enjoy the pain. Really it's none of our business what they enjoy and not pertinent to this investigation." He eyed her closely. "Are you sure there isn't anything personal in this, Olivia? Because if there is I can do this alone."  
  
"You want to take me off the case?" Olivia's temper flared. "What, now you don't need me to be your partner?"  
  
"No, that's not what I mean, Liv," he placated. "You know that's not what I meant."  
  
"Well then what *did* you mean, Elliot, cause it sure sounded that way from over here." Her eyes flashed at him.  
  
"All I meant was that if there's something that's bothering you about this and you can't even talk to me about it.." He left the sentence unfinished.  
  
She gritted her teeth in frustration. "There's nothing there. Let's just get back to the station house. We can look through this list there."  
  
[tbc] 


	3. chapter three

title: religious ecstasy - chapter three  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author note: opus dei and the complaints against them are real. the sanctuary on whitehall street is not. i've been to ny three times in my whole life and i only picked the street cause it was near the park. i've tried to keep portrayal of the opus dei members as accurate as i can. and i have no idea about the detectives' respective faith.  
  
disclaimer: same as it ever was. still not mine. although this olivia's acting slightly ooc, so she might be mine [shrug]. she's just a little cranky.  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -  
  
- Monday April 26th 1:13pm -  
  
"No--" smack "--no--" smack "--no--" smack "--no--" smack "--and no." Elliot slapped the last of the folders down on the stack on his desk. "I've got nothing. You?"  
  
Olivia sent a venomous glare at her own stack of files. "No, the worst I've found is a couple assault charges and a few DUIs. If our guy is here he's escalated or never committed a crime before."  
  
"Violent nature suggests escalation," Elliot commented. Olivia gave him an irritated look that said she knew. Elliot held up his hands. "Look, we're both exhausted from surveillance last night. Try not to take it out on me."  
  
"I didn't even say anything!" she protested.  
  
"You don't have to." He stood abruptly and headed for the coffee machine. "Fresh cup?"  
  
"God yes," she said, sighing. This case was getting to her and Elliot was right; it wasn't fair that she was taking it out on him. "I'm sorry," she said softly as he set down the steaming coffee in front of her. "I don't know what's wrong with me."  
  
He gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before collapsing into his own chair. Propping his feet on the desk he gave her an encouraging half-smile. "It's a tough case and we're all dead on our feet. No leads, just some kooky Catholics."  
  
"I think it's the last one that's getting to me," she said, taking a sip of the coffee. It burned her mouth but it was a rare privilege to have hot coffee at the station house. "I don't know what it is about them, but I just get this unsettled feeling about them. I'm convinced our perp is here somewhere."  
  
"Yeah, and only a couple hundred people to sift out," Elliot said as he squeezed his eyes shut. He sat there motionless for a moment before opening his eyes again. "I feel it too, Liv. My gut says he's here, but who knows where."  
  
His partner didn't answer but gazed at her computer screen blankly through half-lidded eyes. He snapped his fingers in her general direction and she glanced up, startled. "We've only got thirty left to look through. Let's finish up, okay?" She nodded and reached for the list. He grabbed it before she could.  
  
"You didn't take a nap this morning, did you?" She jerked her head back to look at him.  
  
"What? Of course I did," she assured. He shook his head at her. "But--" His head continued to wag back and forth. The pout that formed on her lips would have been attractive if she didn't looked like death warmed over. "Dammit, Elliot! How can you always tell?"  
  
He pointed up the stairs to the crib. "You. Sleep. Now."  
  
"Sure thing, Dad," she said as she rose.  
  
- Corner of Broad and Water Streets -  
  
-Monday April 26th 11:43pm -  
  
"Elliot."  
  
"Hmm," he said groggily.  
  
"You're dozing."  
  
"Sorry. You're turn to be mom." His four hours of sleep this morning seemed like a distant memory. "You can even tell me 'told you so' if you want."  
  
"But I didn't tell you anything," she said, watching the opposite corner where three prostitutes were putting themselves on display for a man walking by. He kept walking so she turned back to her partner. "C'mon Elliot. You've gotta stay awake."  
  
"I am."  
  
"Hardly."  
  
"Talk to me then." He opened his eyes and looked at her. "Keep me awake. Figured out yet what's bothering you?"  
  
"Not really." She still seemed unwilling to pursue the topic but he decided to press anyway.  
  
"Want to know what I think?" She rested her arm on the door and turned to face him fully.  
  
"This should be good."  
  
"I think you're uncomfortable with people who have so much faith. The fact that they've devoted themselves so completely to something that no one can prove exists makes you leery. You're incapable of such absolute faith yourself and anyone who is scares you."  
  
She actually laughed at him. "Did you even read the things I left on your desk?"  
  
"What, the things you found when you were supposed to be sleeping?" She opened her mouth to retort but he cut her off. "Sorry, out of bounds. We already resolved that fight. And no, I didn't have time."  
  
"Let me fill you in, then," she said, acidity reeking through her tone. "Opus Dei numeraries are expected to wear the cilice, a spiked belt, around their thigh at all times prescribed by their leaders. They also whip themselves in addition to performing other smaller daily acts of corporal mortification, which includes cold showers and sleeping on the floor."  
  
"No wonder Alphonso didn't want to cooperate with us. All that's enough to make anyone really grouchy," he replied flippantly.  
  
"This is serious stuff, Elliot." She locked eyes with him, willing him to realize how important it was. "Women are completely unequal and their recruiting practices are aggressive and best likened to those of a cult. They discourage potential members from telling anyone about the life-changing decision they're making. They drive a rift between parents and children, husbands and wives. All so their members' ultimate loyalty lies with the Opus Dei."  
  
Elliot groaned and rubbed his eyes. "It is a prelate too."  
  
"You're Catholic, you understand that stuff better than I do," Olivia admitted.  
  
"A prelate is defined by its members, rather than a physical space like a diocese is. They could have members in many different countries," he explained.  
  
"They do," she confirmed. "Over 80,000 of them."  
  
"Well it's not exactly a number to be afraid of," he said with a small smile. "But then again we're only worried about a couple hundred of them here in the city. Okay, let's just say for the moment that you're right and there's something in their teachings that convinced one of them to kill prostitutes. What is it? And do you think the good Brother Alphonso is covering for them?"  
  
"Well they certainly do like pain, and the entire group takes the teachings of God and their founder very literally. They might take active steps towards stopping prostitution. And as for the perp for all we know it's Brother Alphonso himself," Olivia said, thinking aloud. They both gazed thoughtfully at the street corner where the three prostitutes still stood. The silence was broken by the bleat of a cell phone. They automatically reached into their pockets, but Elliot held his up.  
  
"Mine." He flipped it open. "Stabler." He met Olivia's questioning gaze, then closed his eyes. "Okay, we'll be right there." He snapped the phone closed and opened his eyes again. "Bad news. We got another set of victims about two miles from here."  
  
[tbc] 


	4. chapter four

title: religious ecstasy - chapter four  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author's note: thanks for all the kind reviews folks. it's another short one, but my chapters are short cause i try to post daily. frequent updates or longer chapters...you pick! oh yeah, specifically to jen. there was a bit about yankees in the last author's note that i forgot to take out. i edited out the dialogue but i'd forgotten about the note. it's gone now. (hardcore braves and o's fan here) and yeah, definitely a deal ;) AND FINALLY! watch out for the shippage in this one kiddies :)  
  
disclaimer: wait...you mean they're not mine? and here i was posting fanfic on a website because i thought i owned them. psh, if i owned them we'd have all the seasons on dvd and not just the first. i mean come on! star trek is into voyager for complete seasons on dvd...get with the times dick! although we *are* grateful for the much lower price tag.  
  
- Corner of Broad and Marketfield Streets -  
  
- Tuesday April 27th 12:12am -  
  
"Same M.O., looks like the same weapon, probably same perp." Fin gauged Elliot's and Olivia's reactions carefully. The crime scene was just as gruesome as the others had been but neither flinched at the sight. "He did this right under our noses," he continued fiercely. Upset didn't even begin to describe his feelings. He and John had been coordinating these stake-outs for three nights and now the perp kills again on their watch.  
  
"Body's even positioned the same way," Elliot said, bending down for a better view. Olivia bent over next to him, bracing herself on his shoulder as he leaned into her slightly to confer quietly. Fin watched their exchange with unbridled curiosity, anger lost temporarily. He knew they were a tight team, but he didn't think they were *that* close.  
  
In an instant the moment had passed and they were standing up and including him in the conversation again. But ever so briefly they'd been something else that Fin couldn't quite put his finger on. They were close, no doubt, but he'd thought Elliot was far too honorable a man to betray his marriage. So he did the only thing he could do; he masked his reaction in a cloud of emotion.  
  
"I'm pissed as hell at the balls of this guy," he said. "He sure must have a pair to do this with us watching."  
  
"That, or he couldn't help himself," Olivia said shaking her head slightly.  
  
"A compulsion to kill?" Elliot asked, already nodding his agreement.  
  
"Could be." John came up behind Fin. "It's just as vicious and random as the others." Fin took a step back to include his partner in the circle of SVU detectives.  
  
"We're still looking at an extremely local area. Only a few city blocks radius," Fin added. "That's gotta count for something."  
  
"Yeah, time to go for a plant you think?" Olivia asked. The three men were suddenly quiet and she studied each of their faces in turn and Fin felt a sudden surge of discomfort under her gaze. His eyes shifted away. "Look, I realize I'm on the short-list for this thing, but it's the only way we're going to nail this guy."  
  
He met John's gaze as Elliot began to protest her involvement. His rolled eyes were all that Fin needed to be convinced there was more to the other pair's relationship than met the eye. He was just surprised he hadn't caught it before. He'd been here a while now and not picking up on the subtle nuances wasn't like him. He shot a brief incredulous look at the two meant for John only, who simply wagged his eyebrows at the unspoken suggestion that Fin hadn't already seen it.  
  
Silent partnerspeak. It was something Fin relished about SVU. As a detective in Narcotics he and his partner had had it as well as anyone else. In requesting the transfer to Special Victims, Fin had been prepared to lose the closeness that was so inherent in a job riddled with danger. Somehow the indefinable 'it' was still there, for which he was eternally grateful. He just hoped to high heaven that John wouldn't be taking a bullet for him any time soon. Irritating ass really, but he didn't think he could stand to lose another one, much less one who was as annoyingly endearing as John was.  
  
"Look, I'm not letting you do this without me there to watch your back!" Elliot was getting dangerously close to yelling.  
  
"Like she'd do it with anyone else," Fin muttered, not bothering to make sure it was under his breath. Luckily the only one who caught what he'd said was John and he just sent a vaguely reproachful look Fin's way. The CSU people however were beginning to stare at the two quarreling detectives.  
  
"Hey, kids, let's take it inside, shall we?" John interrupted, deftly shifting the focus of their anger onto him and away from each other. Fin wasn't quite sure how he did it, but the man--for an annoying and ingratiating ass he reminded himself--had remarkable people skills. He projected the finely-honed veneer of an impenetrable and cynical conspiracy buff, but John was definitely above gifted in the intelligence department. And Fin knew he was an old softie at heart; he cared way too much about the victims to not be. Of course, Fin also had his own demons to exorcise when it came to that particular aspect of the cases they worked.  
  
Narcotics had been so much easier, he mused to himself as he watch Olivia and Elliot glare at John at then stalk away, nattering to each other about the victims. It had been about glory, about the triumph of the sting operations, about making the collar on a big-timer. Here in Special Victims it was a precise balance of walking the line between insanity and brilliance. No one could deal for very long with the walking talking victims who hurt your heart more than you ever imagined. It took a special kind of dedication to work in sex crimes, and Fin wasn't sure if he had it anymore. Your own demons, he chastised himself. He needed to get off this track quick; the last thing he wanted to do was have The Talk with the captain.  
  
He turned back to John as the other pair reached their car, already back to good-natured arguing. "Why haven't I noticed that before?"  
  
"Because they don't even notice it." John suddenly looked more tired than Fin had ever seen him before. They'd had tough cases that ran them ragged before, but there was something different in the tense way his eyes pulled back. Jealousy over the mutual adoration? Possibly. Likely, actually, given John's track record when it came to women. Feed the junkie, Fin thought.  
  
"What do you mean?" The loaded question provoked as strong a reaction in John as Fin could hope for.  
  
"I mean they're so in love they don't even realize it! They make Romeo and Juliet look like a pair of teenagers with a minor case of temporary hard-ons." Fin bit back the smile that threatened to break free.  
  
"Which they were."  
  
"True, Juliet was only thirteen."  
  
"It's sad, but we could've prosecuted Romeo for statutory rape." Fin felt like laughing when John grinned infectiously at him. Moments like this made him stay.  
  
"Would've been a fun case to work."  
  
"More fun than this at least."  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -   
  
- Tuesday April 26th 10:32am -  
  
"Okay, how about the other alley next to the church. The one that's not the previous crime scene."  
  
"Too over the top maybe?"  
  
"Liv, this is a plant; there is no 'over the top.'"  
  
"Okay, how about implausible?"  
  
"Why?!"  
  
"No prostitutes in the area remember? The perp--if he sees us mind you--isn't going to fall for it!" Olivia knew her argument wasn't a good one.  
  
"Overwhelming urge to kill," Elliot reminded.  
  
"I feel that," she grumbled, even as she felt herself caving to his point.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, I'll agree with that, but I still think this is too close to the church. The perp obviously goes out looking for his victims, otherwise he wouldn't stray this far! These numeraries aren't exactly the traveling type."  
  
"Are you two sure it's one of the Catholic guys?" Fin asked from his desk.  
  
"Yes," they replied in unison before turning back to each other. Elliot got the jump and was the first to speak.  
  
"We stop him before he gets to anyone else. First one was a crime of opportunity, this one can be too. He's not going to pass it up once he sees us." Damn him and his logic. They'd be sitting in a car tonight next to the church, whether she liked it or not.  
  
"Hey, you two quick bickering," Cragen commanded as he emerged from his office. "Go home and sleep, for Christsake. None of us can get any work done if you don't shut up. Be back at six to prep for the plant." He slammed his door behind him, leaving a pair of embarrassed detectives in his wake. Mumbling words of apology to each other they gathered their things and left.  
  
"Care to bet if they'll survive the night?" Fin asked his partner who gave him his trademark sardonic grin.  
  
"Ten bucks says no."  
  
"You're on."  
  
[tbc] 


	5. chapter five

title: religious ecstasy - chapter five  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author note: shorties but goodies. this one was tough to write and i'm all up for editorial suggestions if anyone wants to make any. and on a completely separate thought, i've now decreed that richard belzer is THE MAN after re-reading my well-loved copy of ufos, jfk, and elvis for at least the twentieth time. if you haven't read it yet you should read it after you're done with the davinci code. because i know you'll read whatever i say ;)  
  
disclaimer: still. not. mine.  
  
- Whitehall Street -  
  
- Wednesday April 28th 12:48am -  
  
The air was chilly for so late in April and Elliot should have been worrying about Olivia catching a cold dressed the way she was. At least he would be if she weren't snuggled into his lap with her chin resting on his shoulder. He resisted the impulse to tighten his grip around her waist and continued to stare at the exit to the Opus Dei sanctuary.  
  
"Still no movement?" she asked quietly, half-whispering into his ear. He felt an involuntary shiver go up his spine.  
  
"Nothing, you?"  
  
"No." Olivia was watching the alley through the back of car as carefully as Elliot was watching the front. He could tell her nerves were standing on end as much as his were; her body was tense and she kept shifting slightly.  
  
His earpiece crackled to life and Munch's voice filled the silence. "We've got a couple people together walking on the street. Not likely our doer is one of them."  
  
"Could be both," Fin added. His gravely voice was distorted even more through the tiny speaker.  
  
"Huang thinks we're looking for a solitary guy," Olivia reminded. He'd finally showed up earlier that evening as they were prepping for the plant to offer his analysis. He'd seemed convinced that the plant was going to work, if not the first night then eventually.  
  
"He's not going to be able to resist the compulsion to kill," he had said in that even, calm voice. "Especially if he is killing to satisfy a religious need. Once he sees two people in a car near his church the killer's mentality will take over and he won't be able to stop himself."  
  
"We'll just have to stop him, then," Elliot had said, casting a protective eye over Olivia who was busy trying to figure out how she was supposed to wear the clothes vice had provided. The blue collared shirt would have been something he could see her wearing on a normal day if it had another foot of material on it. The shorts--the phrase 'booty shorts' came instantly to mind--and fishnets on the other hand were something she'd never wear and he'd almost laughed at her discomfort once she'd managed to get it all on. The death looks she'd given to everyone in the room had deterred him however and not even Munch had an offhanded comment for her.  
  
Of course she was really quite stunning in all of it, which wasn't a problem at first, but now that she was perched precariously on his lap it was becoming more and more of an issue. Especially if she kept shifting around like *that*. A guy really couldn't help his physical reaction, aside from his damnable feelings that he could very well help. Biting his lip he thought of cold showers and doing that stupid Polar Bear Plunge upstate when he was twenty and home on leave.  
  
It worked for now and leaned back to support his head against the headrest, his eyes still unwavering from the church door despite the path of his thoughts. And then she shifted again. This could not last long.  
  
"Dammit, Liv, could you stop moving?"  
  
"You try crouching on your knees like this for hours on end." Oh, well that explained that. It hadn't even occurred to him.  
  
"Sorry." He pushed her down so she was actually sitting on his legs. "Better?"  
  
"A little, yeah." Her tone told him she was still pissed, an increasingly frequent occurrence these days.  
  
Unfortunately, their new position meant she was practically laying on top of him to keep her chin on his shoulder. After a few moments of shuffling they ended up with her arms around his waist and his touching way too much bare skin to be good. Still, that meant he could feel her goose bumps.  
  
"Cold?"  
  
"Rather." He rubbed her back with his hands, hoping to pass along warmth by kinetic energy. She pressed into his body ever so slightly and he felt himself smiling.  
  
------  
  
This is without a doubt the worst thing I've ever had to do, Olivia thought as Elliot rubbed her back, trying to warm her up. The cold wasn't so much bothering her as having to sit on Elliot's lap was. At first she'd tried to maintain some sort of distance, but it had been too painful on her knees after a while and he'd gotten annoyed with her constant movements to relieve the pressure.  
  
She was more upset with herself for feeling so childish about all this. Poor Elliot probably thought she was mad at him. Poor married-with-four-children Elliot. She had to constantly remind herself of that fact. It was just that he was possibly her best friend in the world, and so attractive to top his charming personality off. Sitting on his lap in the middle of the night while scantily clad--scratch that, all but unclothed--was something that she entertained only in her most closely guarded fantasies.  
  
Cold shower, cold shower, cold shower. Repeat the mantra. Think about the time you and your friends decided it would be fun to jump into that icy pond. That had been a bad, bad idea. A childhood stupidity.  
  
Not unlike now. But he just smelled so damn good and the heat coming off his body was perfect. She couldn't stop herself from burrowing down further into his chest. A rumbling chuckle echoed against her.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"You."  
  
"I'm cold, Stabler! We could always trade clothes. Try laughing then." The mental image of Elliot shoving himself into the fishnets was enough to make her snicker.  
  
"Now what's so funny?"  
  
"You in fishnets."  
  
"Dirty girl." They both laughed and her tension drained. "I don't think it's quite my style though."  
  
"The shirt would show off your tattoos so nicely though."  
  
"But I inherited my mother's hips; those shorts would make my ass look bigger than a Macy's balloon."  
  
Her earpiece hissed again as Munch decided to ring in with his comments. "I'm sure you could give old J. Edgar a run for his money, Elliot."  
  
"Yeah, add a feather boa to the ensemble and it's complete," Olivia said, pulling back to look at Elliot's face. He blue eyes shined with amusement in the dim light from the streetlamp. "Maybe a little make-up around the eyes."  
  
"Not too much," he said. "Wouldn't want Maureen to get upset because I look too much like Johnny Depp."  
  
"Trust me, you won't even come close, pretty boy," Olivia assured. She eyed him like she was measuring him up. "Although you might be able to pull off a pirate hat."  
  
"And a monkey?" he asked, features lifted in mock hopefulness.  
  
"Well that's what we have Cragen for," Olivia said, knowing full well he'd chime in. Sure enough the earpiece hissed.  
  
"Hey, I heard that. You two still keeping your eyes out? This is a stakeout after all. Would be a shame to miss anything." Oops, busted.  
  
"Yeah, captain," Olivia said, settling back with her head on Elliot's shoulder. Silence reigned for a few minutes.  
  
"So," she finally said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm sorry about how I've been acting lately."  
  
"What's to apologize about? It's a rough case; we're all feeling it, Liv."  
  
"Just accept my apology and make me feel better." She leaned her head against his. "Please?" The stubble of his cheek rubbed pleasantly against her smooth one.  
  
"Apology accepted." She felt his arms tighten around her back and smiled.  
  
------  
  
Munch looked over to his smirking partner. "Hey! We still have several hours to go!"  
  
"And you'll be begging for double or nothing."  
  
"Never."  
  
They both turned back to their watch on the street three stories down. Nothing stirred as the city slept on. After an endless moment Munch broke the silence.  
  
"Let's say--purely hypothetically speaking of course-- that I did. What would you say?"  
  
Fin spared him a glance, but he was still studying the road below.  
  
"I might accept."  
  
[tbc]  
  
and i quote the great fiona apple... "your hungry flirt borders on intrusion/i'm building memories on things we have not said"  
  
you should listen to "tidal" and "when the pawn..." while you read richard belzer's book :) because you do everything i say...ha. hope the short chapter was good enough. editorial suggestions welcome. 


	6. chapter six

title: religious ecstasy - chapter six  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author note: i leave for florida, where i'll have no internet, in the morning. i was hoping to finish before that, but i guess not. i'll be back in a week. sorry!!  
  
what started as a simple case story with a bit of sexual tension has evolved into something else. i bring you the beginnings of my own svu au, with a slightly different send-off than most.  
  
disclaimer: i'm gonna sue for custody of angst!elliot and angst!olivia and maybe even angst!kathy. i'll let you know how that goes.  
  
- Stabler House -  
  
- Queens, New York -  
  
- Wednesday April 28th 3:12pm -  
  
Elliot was dozing on the couch when Kathy came home from her shift. She came in quietly and paused in the doorframe when she caught sight of him. He could have taken a nap in their bed upstairs, but she supposed it was too much to hope he'd been waiting for her. More likely he'd been waiting for the kids to come home from school, which if he were around more he'd realize they weren't. Dickie and Liz were both at after-school care while Kathleen and Maureen were staying for soccer and NHS respectively.  
  
This latest case was killing him. Last night had been the fourth in a row he'd had a stakeout and the dark pools under his eyes attested to sleepless nights and quick naps here and there.  
  
Fourth night in a row spent with Olivia rather than his wife.  
  
Where did this jealousy come from? It was work, she was his partner, and aside from requesting a transfer--which he'd refused to do on three separate occasions--there wasn't anything Elliot could do to get away from her. If he'd wanted to.  
  
As quickly as it came the jealousy faded and Kathy felt a bitterness rising in its place. She bowed her head against the sturdy wood of the doorframe and buried the urge to weep for her failed marriage. She loved Elliot, of that she was sure, but it wasn't the same. Somewhere along the line, in the middle of the lonely nights and the days of trying to shuttle kids to soccer practices and parties, being in love with her husband had turned into a depressingly platonic love for the man who fathered her children.  
  
It was nothing new, she supposed. Probably happened all the time. They'd married young and only because she'd been pregnant with Maureen. If they hadn't been young and stupid she could only imagine the course their lives would have taken. She might be a doctor now, instead of a nurse. Elliot would probably just be retiring from the Marines. They wouldn't have a life together. They wouldn't have four beautiful children.  
  
It was time to talk to him about it. She had the sinking feeling they were about to become just another statistic.  
  
-----  
  
He was dreaming in mighty Technicolor blood. Another car, another victim. He looked up to the Opus Dei church that hung menacingly over the street before leaning over to check out the car. Her face hung in pale death, the bright red smudges of blood screaming his condemnation. He felt himself begin to shake. He hadn't been there for her. He brought his hands to his face, but they were covered in blood and he gaped in horror. Her blood was on his hands. Comes a pale horse, his mind screamed.  
  
He rushed to consciousness as he jerked upward, forcibly exhaling. He focused on the closest object and realized it was--"Kathy?"  
  
"Elliot," she said, her voice full of concern. She was crouched next to the couch, her hand on his shoulder. "I thought you were just dozing, but you were thrashing around like you were having a nightmare."  
  
He swung his feet around so he was sitting and she joined him. "No, it was nothing," he lied as he rubbed his eyes, the images of his dream already fading. All but the red of the blood against her white face.  
  
"If you say so." She was clearly not convinced. He felt her arm slide through his and she rested her head against his shoulder. "We need to talk, Elliot."  
  
Whatever it was, he didn't want to hear it again. "Can it wait? I need to get back to the station house."  
  
"No, it can't."  
  
"Then it needs to be quick."  
  
"It won't be." He sighed.  
  
"Kathy, we're this close to nailing this guy. Once this case is over I swear I'll be here to talk for however long about whatever you want."  
  
"I'm not in love with you anymore."  
  
"Oh."  
  
The silence rang in his ears. Or maybe that was the blood draining from his head.  
  
"How long?"  
  
"I've only recently realized it, but I think I haven't been in a while." Her grip on his arm tightened. "I'm sorry." He didn't move away but nor did he speak for a few moments. This was momentous and inopportune all at once. He'd thought about the situation of course, but in his mind it had always been the other way around, him approaching her.  
  
He knew his next words would set the tone of the conversation and having had similar thoughts himself he didn't want condemnation to be his overwhelming message. Why couldn't she have waited until after this case was over? He was momentarily upset for the selfish thought; Kathy obviously needed to deal with this now.  
  
"Well," he finally said. "What do you want to do about it?"  
  
"I don't know." Her body slumped fully against his. "I feel so guilty," she confessed.  
  
"Don't. I think we both knew this was a long time in coming." He withdrew his arm from hers and placed it around her shoulders instead, drawing her into a comforting hug. He pulled gently and they lay down on the couch together. She sniffled slightly as she nestled into the crook of his neck.  
  
"You can cry if you need to," he said softly. The sniffling turned into real tears and he could feel them soaking through his t-shirt. He rubbed her back comfortingly, feeling an odd guilty parallel with what he'd done for Olivia in the car last night.  
  
"I don't cry for our marriage," she said when her tears had subsided. "I cry for our children."  
  
"Keep talking to me, Kathy."  
  
And she did.  
  
- Special Victims Unit Squad Room -  
  
-Wednesday April 28th 9:27pm -  
  
"Hey, where's Benson and Stabler?" Cragen sifted through the faces of detectives and couldn't find either. Munch looked at him his face devoid of all expression.  
  
"Elliot disappeared," he said. "Olivia went looking for him. He's been really quiet."  
  
"Well, we kind of need them for this," Cragen said, exasperation evident.  
  
"I'm sure she'll find him."  
  
------  
  
It was quiet up here on the roof in the noisy city kind of way. The various sounds, sights and smells of New York at night drifted up and in concentrating on those it was easier to let your subconscious sort out whatever was bothering it. Olivia had come up here herself often, or chased Munch when he obviously needed someone to talk to. She hadn't done that in a while though, which made her happy. It meant that Fin was a good partner for him.  
  
But her partner on the other hand had disappeared half an hour ago and she'd searched the station house in vain looking for him. This was the last place he could be. He'd been uncharacteristically silent since they'd come in a few hours ago to get ready for their stakeout. Sure enough, there he was, staring over the edge of the building at the street far below.  
  
"Hey, Elliot," she said as she closed the distance between them. "I've been looking all over for you."  
  
"We ready to go?" he asked without turning around.  
  
"Yeah," she replied, pulling her jacket closer over the clothes she was wearing again. He didn't answer. "Elliot, what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
"I suppose," he said indifferently, still facing the edge.  
  
"Hey, I'm kinda tired of talking to your back."  
  
"Then stop talking."  
  
"I'm not leaving you up here, Elliot."  
  
"Kathy is," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. There were tears in the simple sentence and Olivia felt her heart break for him. "She wants a divorce. I suppose I do too, but it still hurts, you know?"  
  
"No, I don't," she admitted as she fitted her arms around his stomach and pressed herself against his back. "But I can empathize pretty well." She knew he didn't want her to see him cry and wasn't going to force a real hug on him. Her lips found the back of his neck almost involuntarily as she kissed his exposed skin. His body shivered underneath her and his arms clasped over hers tightly.  
  
"Don't ever leave me, Liv," he begged softly.  
  
"I'll always be right here, Elliot," she assured. "You want to crash at my place in the morning? My couch loves you, you know. It's practically the only time it ever gets used." His rumbling chuckle built up.  
  
"I already told Kathy I was staying in the crib."  
  
"Can't stay there forever." She rested her forehead against his back. "Speaking of staying forever, we should get back down before they send search parties out. We really do have to go."  
  
"'Once more into the breach, dear friend?'"  
  
"Something like that, yeah."  
  
[tbc] 


	7. chapter seven

title: religious ecstasy - chapter seven  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author note: okay guys, i stayed up all night writing (and packing) despite my 6:30am leaving-for-the-airport time. bit of resolution, but the story isn't done yet. and all cause i love you guys for leaving me such great reviews :)  
  
kukrae-don't feel bad asking for another chapter...as long as you understand i want you to write more too, i guess we're even! [runs off and finally reviews stalked interlude] there! you've been on my favorite authors list for a while, i just hadn't gotten around to reviewing. bad girl!  
  
jen-yeah, i can see this turning into a series :) and i don't particularly care for kathy either; i just feel sorry for her most days.  
  
disclaimer: the custody battle is going poorly. they're still not mine. damn.  
  
- Whitehall Street -  
  
- Thursday April 29th 12:14am -  
  
"Face it John, you're gonna be out twenty bucks." Fin laid on the smugness thicker than a couple of less-than-choice former partners. "Whatever their deal was, they resolved it."  
  
John eyed Fin over the top of his glasses. "Hey, there could still be a Three-Mile Island-sized meltdown. You'll be laying that twenty in my hand before the night's over."  
  
"Naw, they aren't gonna have another lover's quarrel while they're miked."  
  
"Damn, we deal with the arguments too but we don't get the great make-up sex."  
  
"Hey, you guys know you're transmitting right?" As Elliot's voice filtered through the speakers set up on the table they froze. "Guess that's a no. We can hear everything you're saying."  
  
"Ahhh, no hablo ingles," John stuttered and flipped off the transmit switch on their microphone. He and Fin looked at each other and cringed at the same time.  
  
"We are so dead," John commented.  
  
------  
  
Downstairs in the car Olivia pulled away from Elliot's shoulder. They looked at each other and burst out laughing.  
  
"I would have given anything to see the looks on their faces," Olivia crowed. "I bet it was priceless."  
  
Elliot felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, however temporarily. He felt normal again. "I bet. It explains a lot, though."  
  
"What does?"  
  
"That everyone thinks we're sleeping together." She nodded and leaned back down to resume her watching duties.  
  
"I suppose. Certainly why everyone gives us a wide berth when we fight."  
  
"Well we do bicker like an old married couple, Liv."  
  
"And who'd want to get in the middle of that?" A girlish giggle slipped out of her. "But seriously, for the official record since we're miked: no, Elliot and I are not sleeping together."  
  
"Nor have we ever," he added. He almost added that they wouldn't ever either, but decided not to get too far ahead of himself. One never knew what the future held. It instantly seemed that an emotional betrayal of his marriage, no matter how dying it was, and had sobered even before Cragen's voice cut through and told them to keep the chatter down.  
  
It was as if Olivia sensed the changing direction of his thoughts and went from supporting herself on him to hugging him. He accepted it gratefully. Perhaps this divorce would be harder than he'd originally thought.  
  
- 2:03am -  
  
Olivia had been holding him tightly for a couple hours now, and she had long since bored of tracing the defroster lines of the back window with her eyes. She'd moved onto rearranging the store names to form different words when Elliot stiffened suddenly.  
  
"What have we here?" he asked quietly. She knew better than to turn around and he quickly began describing it. "Man exiting the church. Looks to be about six feet tall, but he's got a hood on. I can't tell his hair color."  
  
"We see him. It looks like he's spotted your car," Munch confirmed in her ear. She felt a surge of fear and adrenaline course through her body. Her extremities began to tingle with anticipation. "He's moving towards you. Look sharp."  
  
Olivia straightened partially so her nose was against Elliot's cheek. She pushed down until she could feel the racing pulse in his neck against her lips. Adrenaline quickly gave way to desire and she hastily batted it back. Not the time, nor the place. She felt his right arm slide up her back to tangle in her short hair. His left hand had left her body entirely.  
  
"He's got a knife!" Fin yelled over the radio and Olivia could faintly hear Cragen ordering the team to move. Too late, she thought as a shadow fell over the window.  
  
The door abruptly exploded outward, sending the shadow reeling back. In a flash Elliot was out from under her, leaving a wake of cold. She collapsed against the seat all but gasping for breath. She looked up in time to see Elliot wrestling the hooded man to the ground, stretching out the hand that held the knife and squeezing at the wrist. The knife clattered to the ground and Elliot had the man cuffed before the first team of officers had even arrived on the scene.  
  
Olivia tried to climb out of the car, but Elliot was up quickly pushing her back down, shimmying out of his coat and wrapping it around her shoulders. It smelled like him, had his warmth, somehow lacked his essence.  
  
"I froze," she muttered. "I froze up in fear."  
  
"It's okay," he soothed.  
  
"Who is it?" she finally asked.  
  
"It's the kid, Andrew."  
  
"But he's only eighteen. He's still a boy."  
  
"I know." He hugged her. Behind them the Munch was reading him his rights as Fin was leading him off to another car parked around the corner.  
  
"Ender!" he was screaming. "I am Ender!!"  
  
- 2:40am -  
  
Olivia sat on the steps of the row house staring blankly at the Opus Dei church in front of her. From the outside it really hardly resembled a church at all. There were no ornate decorations, no superfluous structures. Merely a cross over the doors.  
  
She was ten again, losing her faith for the first time. She couldn't believe she'd found it once more, especially working this job. Wherever it had come from, it was gone again. That the message taught could inspire someone to kill...  
  
Best not to think of it. Best to prepare to question the suspect. To analyze. To trap. To confuse. She and Elliot needed to get back to the station house to prepare.  
  
Elliot.  
  
Where was he? His warmth still surrounded her. She pulled the jacket tighter around her body. This outfit really was ridiculous. She need to get back to the station house to change out of it. To question. To analyze.  
  
And there he was. His arm was around her shoulders and she felt her body leaning against him. The real warmth was there now. Here was his essence for her to soak in. She drew such strength from him and knew he did the same from her in turn. He didn't bother to speak and neither did she.  
  
To be in each other's presence was enough.  
  
[tbc] 


	8. chapter eight

title: religious ecstasy - chapter eight  
  
author: duck  
  
rating: pg-13  
  
author note: wow, last chapter. i wrapped it up sooner than i thought i would, but i think that's just my fingers missing my own computer. brought to you from the sunny state of florida on a furtive internet connection after being written out by hand! and i use alex in my au cause i know her. i can't write casey just yet.  
  
disclaimer: the court has officially rejected my request for custody. i'm quite broken up about it, but alas they are not mine.  
  
- Special Victims Unit -  
  
- Thursday April 29th 8:32am -  
  
"Well," Munch said, emerging from the interrogation room. "He's completely nuts."  
  
"Yeah, we noticed," Elliot confirmed heavily, catching Olivia's eye. She looked like hell, but he probably did too.  
  
"A touch of megalomania, a bit of religious dogma, and a mother who never cared. Poof. Homicidal maniac who is convinced he's character from an Orson Scott Card novel, although I couldn't tell you which because the Ender I remember never killed anyone by choice." He paused. "Or when it wasn't necessary."  
  
"I'm still confused on that part, John," Olivia commented, crossing her arms and bracing her hips against the wall. Her slumped shoulders telegraphed exhaustion and a touch of defeat. They hadn't actually talked earlier--he wouldn't have known what to say--but now he was beginning to rethink that. She was obviously still beating herself up over her actions earlier.  
  
Much earlier, his groaning joints reminded as John launched into his usual longwinded explanation. It seemed like ages since he'd really slept and he hoped it wasn't reflected in his eyes the way it was in Olivia's. He examined the young suspect through the one-way glass. He was doing his best to glare defiantly at the tabletop, but kept glancing up nervously at the very stony and silent Fin.  
  
Elliot rested his forehead against the glass and only half-listened as Munch went on about 'xenocide' or something or other. As it turned out only Andrew Fields' mother was dead. She had died five months before, a prostitute in the wrong place at the wrong time. The whereabouts, even the identity, of his father remained a mystery and Andrew had no place to go when the Opus Dei took him in. He'd unfortunately taken their teachings a little too literally and set out to be the savior of the human race. While the lawyer who sat next to him would undoubtedly try to get him out of it, the self-styled "Ender" Fields faced the needle for his ten murders.  
  
"So young," Olivia murmured next to him. He looked up, realizing Munch had reentered the interrogation room.  
  
"Doesn't change what he did," Elliot said stiffly.  
  
"No, nor I," she replied, self-recrimination evident.  
  
"Olivia--"  
  
"Don't start, Elliot."  
  
He did anyway. "You were forced to put yourself in a dangerous position and you did what anyone else would have done."  
  
"You certainly didn't freeze," she pointed out. She seemed far too close to stalking away.  
  
"I didn't freeze because of you."  
  
"What, because I did?" Her anger hit him like a blast of hot air.  
  
"No, because he wanted to hurt you." He drew in a deep breath trying to sort out what he was trying to say.  
  
"He wanted to hurt you too. He would have killed both of us given the chance."  
  
"That's not what I mean." He sighed. Why was it always so difficult with women? First his daughters, then his wife, now his partner. He didn't want to admit certain things to Olivia, but it was obvious he would have to.  
  
"I had a dream that he killed you because I wasn't there," he confessed. "It was one of the worst nightmares of my life."  
  
"I'm sorry?"  
  
His hand found hers. "When he got near the car I got so pissed he would try to hurt you." His fingers smoothed her skin. "It was only when I realized it was just that eighteen year old that I lost my rage. If it had been anyone else I probably would have beaten the crap out of them for daring to even try to come near you."  
  
"Oh." He smiled at her laconic response.  
  
"We're such good compliments for each other emotionally I probably just took up all the energy from our shared pool anyhow." She snorted. "It's not you fault, Olivia. Please tell me you understand that?"  
  
"I suppose I do own you one mindless acceptance," she said.  
  
"I'd prefer to think that we each get one a day or so."  
  
It was nice to see her smile again.  
  
- 12:43pm -  
  
Alex spotted Olivia at her desk the instant she entered the Special Victims squad room and headed over to talk to her. Elliot was nowhere in sight.  
  
"Hey, Olivia," she greeted. "I hear you have a suspect for me."  
  
"Yeah, the lab just called. His knife had trace amounts of all the victims' blood on it and no one's prints but his own. Seems like we caught an open-and-shut one for you."  
  
Olivia had deep circles under her eyes and looked like she hadn't seen a bed in a week. "When was the last time you slept?" Alex asked.  
  
"Uh, a couple nights ago," Olivia said with a shrug.  
  
"You should take a couple days off," Alex suggested, frowning. "Maybe sleep the whole time."  
  
"I'm waiting until Elliot gets back. We have to finish a couple bits of paperwork and then Cragen told us he didn't want to see us until Monday." She was fiddling with her pen in a nervous way, but Alex just attributed it to nervous energy from not sleeping. She'd done that herself many times in law school.  
  
"Okay, I'll go talk to Cragen then," Alex said. She turned to go but stopped. "Oh, did that DNA on the underwear ever amount to anything?"  
  
"Lab should have the results by tomorrow, but he already confessed they were his."  
  
"Any explanation?" It was mildly curious.  
  
"He got a little excited, but as a numerary it's prohibited."  
  
"Poor kid. Imagine not being able to act like a teenager."  
  
"I don't have to imagine," Olivia sighed. "I saw it."  
  
- 1:50pm -  
  
"Well," Elliot pronounced as he flipped the last folder closed. "That it's. We're done with this one till the court dates. Good riddance."  
  
Olivia leaned back in her chair, her arms folded behind her head. She stretched in the vain hoping of working out the kinks that had become embedded in her back muscles. No such luck.  
  
"So you're crashing at my place, right?" she asked.  
  
"I don't want to impose," he said.  
  
"For the last time, it's not an imposition," she groaned. "And you are *not* wasting your money on a hotel." How many times did she have to sa it before he got it? "Unless you're uncomfortable staying with me."  
  
"No, that's not it," he said, a grin breaking out on his face. "I think other people wouldn't be comfortable with it."  
  
"Eh," she shrugged. "I for one would love to see how high Munch and Fin's bet will go." They both laughed. "Shall we leave, then?"  
  
"Yes indeed," he replied as he rose. "I can't wait to sleep this off."  
  
"Me too," she said, letting more weariness slip in than she'd intended.  
  
"You sure you're okay?" he asked her as they moved towards the doors.  
  
A multitude of snarky remarks tumbled across her mind and she bit them all back. He should know better than to ask after her state of mind by now. Still he cared for her enough to risk her wrath, and while she shouldn't, she did love him, as a friend at the very least. He deserved an honest answer.  
  
How did she feel? She wasn't even sure anymore. This case had pulled her in twenty directions at once. Hate, fear, pity, anger, desire. She'd faced faith and found herself wanting. Again. She felt numb from the raw emotion of it all. Feeling numb was just the first stage, and an unpleasant one at that. She had a ways to go before she felt 'okay.'  
  
"No," she finally said. "But thanks for asking."  
  
[end]  
  
sequels in planning and on the way.  
  
thanks for reading, folks. it's been an honor. 


End file.
